Mercy Like a River
by Dendera
Summary: The story of Jesus and the adulteress woman (found in John chapter 8), retold through the woman's point of view.


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Author's Note: John 8 has always been one of my favorite New Testament tales. The story of the adulterous woman and her redemption is still so very applicable to our lives today. It's refreshing to read and be reminded that, though we all sin and make mistakes, forgiveness can be found for even the most unlikely of people. Out of loving reverence, I've retold the tale from the adulteress' point of view.

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Distribution: If this piece of fiction touched you in some way, let me know. I'd be pleased to donate it to another website upon request ;)

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Dedication: For my Father: you've taken the long, rocky path in life, but it's never too late to find your way home.

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It was dawn. The sun had barely stretched its golden rays across the pale horizon when they came for her. Rough hands seizing her slender wrists, yanking to her feet without so much as a word of explanation. Her eyes flew back to her partner, the man she had shared her bed with, only to find him missing. But his disappearance had come too late, for their act had already been witnessed. How fortunate for him to have escaped, while the blame was stacked upon her own shoulders.

Their dark eyes cast withering glances in her direction, silently appraising, as if she were little more than a filthy mongrel. She was whatever they accused her of. No one questioned such matters. The elite assembly of Pharisees was rarely mistaken in the affairs of ancient law and tradition. So their abrupt siege of her home did not induce much surprise. She was well aware of the fact that she had been caught defiling the law, which prohibited adultery. Thus, with an ever-increasing feeling of dread eating away at her stomach, she slowly came to realize that within minutes she would be on trial. The Pharisees were quick to point fingers, and even quicker with their calls for punishment. Judgment and blame would prove to be just as heavy as the stones they would heap upon her.

She struggled against their iron grip as she was dragged from her bed and out the door. They flung her carelessly through the streets, their tongues like scornful whips as they hurtled insults at her. Harlot. Whore. Devil woman. Bony fingers dug into the soft flesh of her arm, leaving a fresh flush of welts. She uttered a small cry of pain, wrenching her arm from their hold.

"What do you want with me?" She demanded as they moved to restrain her once more. "Where are we going?"

Several pairs of depreciating eyes smirked at her. One of them shook his head incredulously at her indignant inquiries. "Surely you know the answers to those questions, woman." He sneered, "You have violated the sacred Law of Moses, the seventh commandment. 'Thou shalt not commit adultery'. You know very well of our customs, and the traditional punishments." 

She swallowed hard, feeling an uncomfortable lump forming in her throat. Her liquid brown eyes brimmed over with tears, as her mind reeled with the sudden shock. No, she would not be on trial. She was as good as dead.

One of the elders who oversaw the proceedings leaned in to peer at her disdainfully. His dark eyes were cold and distant as his unwavering gaze locked with hers. He scrutinized her appearance for a moment, inspecting her closely.

"Take her to the one who believes he is the Christ. Bring her to Jesus. I have seen him teaching a large crowd just this morning, in the temple courts." He instructed, his authoritative tone laced with underlying conceit. "We shall see how he handles such a show of infidelity." He waved a pious hand, dismissing her. More hands reached out to bind her and another swiped in front of her face, rudely tossing her hair.

"This so called prophet would not dare defy the code of Moses," a conspiratorial voice rang out from behind her.

"He will be humiliated in front of his followers. Finally the people will realize he is not what he claims to be." Another added eagerly, and they begin to speak animatedly amongst themselves.

Her thoughts were racing frantically, fluttering in so many directions that she could scarcely keep up. Jesus? Had she heard of this man, this 'prophet', before? The respected teachers and law keepers of her village were certainly intent on destroying him. What business did they have with him and why would they force her to stand before such a man? And suddenly she became very afraid. If the leaders and spiritual guides of the community were troubled over this Jesus, then how much worse would it be for her? He must be a powerful man to have gained such a reputation. She shuddered to imagine what he might do to a sinful woman like herself.

Before she knew what was happening, she could make out a confident voice drifting from over the temple courtyard's walls. Her small frame quaked and trembled with fear, and she twisted and writhed under their grasp.

"No!" She cried, panicking as they pulled her into the courts. A sea of heads turned to her, curious about the unexpected commotion. Dozens of prying eyes watched in confusion at her persistent struggling. "Let me go! Let me go! Please, I do not want to die!"

The tall stranger, who sat seated in front of the group, paused his lecture to stare questioningly at the small band of Pharisees and their captive. From what she could see, he did not appear to be as threatening as one might think. He was dressed simply, bearing no marks of royalty or signs of considerable wealth. His pensive gaze met hers briefly, and she averted her eyes in shame.

The scribes and Pharisees marched her in tow towards the prophet, casting her down upon the hard ground at his feet. "Teacher, this woman was caught in adultery," one of them proclaimed loud enough for the crowd to hear. "In the very act!" And she began to hear the people whispering, abuzz with the news. She sunk to her knees, hanging her head in disgrace.

"Please," she begged, humbling herself. "Please do not kill me…" She buried her tear-streaked face in her hands, her body racked with sobs. "I do not want to die…" She was trembling violently now and a sick feeling of nausea spread throughout her.

"In the law, Moses commanded us to stone such women." There was a deliberate pause as another Pharisee member continued. "But, what do you say?" Jesus' disciples traded wary glances, their faces drawn tight with tense anticipation. The multitude's murmuring grew louder as they waited, wondering what the prophet's reply might be. The trap had been set; it was time for the kill.

A surreal moment of awkward silence hung in the air as both sides listened anxiously for Jesus to speak up. But he never did. Her eyes flew open, and she gingerly raised her head to see what was keeping the prophet from answering. The breath caught in her throat and her brow knit in puzzlement. There he was, just a few feet from her, squatting on the dusty ground. He poked out a finger to scrawl something in the dirt, as if he had never heard their question at all.

The Pharisees exchanged mixed glances of disbelief and annoyance. The surrounding people squinted to read what he had written, mumbling to themselves and to the others behind who couldn't see. 

"Teacher," an elder scribe called to him, trying again. "This woman has committed adultery. According to the Law of Moses, she must be stoned. Do you agree or not?" She watched Jesus' face nervously, dumbfounded with his muteness. Still nothing. The hushed tones of the gatherers grew audible again, as they looked on, not knowing what to make of the situation. Her head was beginning to hurt. Why wasn't he responding?

"Do you refuse to give us your answer?" A younger Pharisee barked impatiently, clearly irritated. And then the man before her lifted his head, acknowledging their presence at last. His raised himself up, calm and collected, as if time an all of the events swirling around him were of little consequence. Straightening his shoulders, he glanced to each one of them in turn.

Finally he spoke. "He who is without sin among you," Jesus told them firmly, "let him be the first to throw a stone at her." And then, having supplied them with his answer, he stooped back down again to write on the ground. 

She blinked in surprise, his comment still echoing in her ears. The prophet was not going to judge and sentence her? It simply did not make sense. Surely he would not taint his own reputation by pardoning an adulterous woman... Had she heard him correctly? 

Her flustered gaze shifted back to her accusers. The Pharisees looked just as bewildered as she did, as they desperately racked their minds for some proper response. By their stunned silence, she knew that they were left at a complete loss. They had not expected Jesus to give them such a reply. Then, to her astonishment, one of the oldest in the party turned on his heel and exited. Accompanied by another… and then another. The members of the crowd followed quietly, each person having suffered a sudden attack of conscience. 

Slowly, one by one, they went out--the Pharisees and citizens alike, until only she and Jesus remained. The prophet looked up to find no one else around except the two of them. His warm eyes met hers as he stood, offering his hand to help her up. 

"Woman, where are those accusers of yours?" He inquired softly, searching her face. "Has no one condemned you?" His tone was so breathtakingly gentle, so comforting, as if a loving glow seemed to radiate from him. Never before had she known such genuine benevolence. The fear and anxiety that had welled up inside of her began to fade away, melting into a feeling of peace. 

It took her a second to find her voice. "No one, Lord." He laid a hand on her shoulder, his touch sending a wave of serenity rippling through her.

His voice flowed with tender compassion, "Neither do I condemn you; go and sin no more." 

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End file.
